


Limitations

by somuchanemoia



Series: The Junkbox [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Prompt Fic, Steve is a kind and gentle boyfriend, Vomiting, and so is billy, i wrote this to write not to post lmao, it could be in the 80s but really its got mild modern things mentioned so..., kinda...I mean...Steve's had too much to drink, mentions of vomit, nothing too graphic though, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchanemoia/pseuds/somuchanemoia
Summary: Steve gets drunk on a night of celebration and Billy just can't handle vomit.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: The Junkbox [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715977
Kudos: 59





	Limitations

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to write, not to publish. I've been struggling with writing for a long time and this just kinda worked out and I was proud of myself for writing 2k tonight so...enjoy this i guess. 
> 
> Prompt: You got sick after a party and I want to take care of you but the one thing I can’t handle is vomit. (from the @DailyAU prompts on Tumblr)

Steve was hammered. That much was clear, not that Billy minded. His pretty boy had done so well.

  
It was finals week. Steve had been studying nonstop for the past two weeks, wracking his brains trying to remember everything. For Steve, school wasn't easy. He struggled a lot, had a hard time remembering all the material, understanding it enough to comprehend it was a whole other obstacle to overcome as well. School was just...difficult. And Billy knew that. Helped his boyfriend as much as he could with studying, reading the material out loud to him while Steve took notes over the semester. Helped him with his cute little flashcards that he made and quizzed him on new material after class, made sure his boy stayed focused. Even still, Steve's grades weren't perfect, not that Billy cared if he was dating a straight C student, but with Steve's major...he needed to get better grades to keep his credits. And some of his professors were making the finals a huge chunk of their student's grade. So Steve pushed. And he worked so hard and Billy kissed him good luck before they walked into their finals or sent him a good luck text if they didn't share the class together. 

  
And Steve had managed a small miracle. All that hard work paid off and Billy just about kissed his boyfriend till they both passed out when Steve showed him his final grades, some of them being Bs. 

  
And here they were. Finals week was over and Billy had taken Steve out to celebrate with friends. Had bought Steve several drinks, had danced with him to the music, had sucked him off in the bathroom in celebration. By the time they were doing body shots though, Steve was getting to the point of drunk that Billy didn't want anyone else to enjoy. Steve was a clingy drunk, would curl up in Billy's lap, play with his hair and ears as he whispered nastiness into his ears, wiggled his ass on Billy until he was hard. And by the time he got to the point of whispering that he wanted Billy to shoot all over his face in front of everyone, Billy was ready to take his boy home. Nobody else got to enjoy drunk Steve the way Billy did when he got like this. 

  
So he coaxed Steve off his lap, got him up enough to get up himself and hugged both Robin and Heather goodbye, got Steve to hug them both goodbye and then had to pry him off Robin when he heard Steve say something about wanting to go home and suck Billy off. Robin made a face, but chuckled nonetheless. 

  
The whole way home, Steve leaned on Billy's shoulder, smiley and giggly and horny and clingy. And Billy loved it. He loved rewarding his boy for all the hard work, for doing so well. 

  
It was all going great till they walked in the door of their apartment. 

  
Steve was a bit wobbly, but Billy managed to get him to take off his shoes, knowing that sober Steve would not be happy about tracking icky outside germs into the rest of the place. 

  
"There we go, pretty boy." Billy purred, nosing at Steve's thigh from where he was kneeling on the floor, Steve's shoes tossed to the side. His fingers danced up to the top of Steve's jeans, his fingers starting to play with the zipper. 

  
And then Steve gagged. 

  
Billy leaned back just far enough that Steve's vomit, just missed him and landed all down Steve and the floor. 

  
Billy shut his eyes and tried to breath through his mouth. Oh God. 

  
Billy didn't consider himself a squeamish person. He had handled his fair share when it came to blood--had bandaged up split knuckles and had his fair share of broken noses--and it had never bothered him. He'd dealt with enough piss when he or Steve had gotten so drunk that they peed the bed when they got home. He'd managed to help Steve to the bathroom once even when he'd broken his leg their first semester together. He'd seen Steve enough during allergy season to be okay with spit and snot. 

  
But then there was puke. 

  
Puke was the one thing Billy just couldn't do. 

  
When he was sick, he hated the idea of throwing up, the idea was scary almost. The uncontrollable rolling of his stomach, of the burning as it came up his throat. Steve always had to hold him when he felt nauseous, kept him calm when he felt like he was gonna spew all over the damn place. He'd even taken him to the doctor on campus for "motion sickness" in order to get the anti-nausea patches for him so Billy knew he wouldn't throw up when he was sick. 

  
And Steve never seemed to get sick sick. He'd catch a cold, maybe a mild fever here or there. And Steve usually held his booze well enough that he didn't puke. And if he did, he never made Billy deal with it. 

  
But here was the moment. Steve was covered in his own vomit. it was on the floor between him and Billy. 

  
"Bill, I'm--" Steve heaved again and Billy crawled back away from him, trying to breathe through his mouth. 

  
"I know, baby." Billy covered his own mouth with his hand. Steve was looking at him with big eyes, "I'm...gonna take care of you."

  
"Billy, you don't do throw up." Steve stumbled towards the bathroom, "I...I got it."

  
It wasn't fair. Steve took such good care of him when he was in situations like this. He would hold him and play with his hair and be sweet to him. Billy couldn't just let his boyfriend sit covered in his own puke while Billy hid in their room till Steve was no longer emptying his stomach. "No...I..." Billy managed to get to his feet and swallowed hard, "I got you, pretty boy."   
He reached for Steve's hand, slid their fingers together as he led Steve to the bathroom. Billy tried not to breathe through his nose, couldn't handle the smell without his stomach rolling hard and fast with his own nausea. 

  
He managed to get them both in the bathroom before his stomach revolted. He pushed away from Steve, leaned against the wall and tried to take steady breaths, the same rhythm that Steve taught him when he feels like he's gonna hurl. He could hear Steve whine softly, heard him shuffling around, heard the shower being turned on. 

  
"Just a minute, Stevie and I'll be okay." 

  
"S'alright, Tiger." Stevie didn't sound giggly and happy anymore, instead sounding concerned and tired, "I can take care of it. Why don't you go get some water for us. Warm up the bed a bit."  
Billy tried to get his stomach to settle. He was a horrible boyfriend, couldn't do a bit of vomit. Was making his boyfriend clean himself up after Billy got him nice and drunk, got him all giggly and happy in celebration. _Congrats on your achievement, heres some vodka that you'll barf up later and then your boyfriend will make you clean up off yourself later cause he's a pussy when it comes to vomit._

  
"Don't wanna leave you..." Billy mumbled as he covered his mouth again, trying to keep it all together. 

  
"I'm okay." Steve was closer now, he could smell the stomach acid on him. Billy's stomach rolled violently and he had to push Steve further away, got to the bathroom door before he managed to heave himself, and shut it behind him, leaving Steve to take care of himself. 

  
Billy did as Steve asked. He avoided the front hall, held his breath the whole way before he couldn't do the smell, would apologize to Steve later for not having moped up the puke on the floor. He got two glasses of water and some saltines to help with both their rolling stomachs. He took them back down the hall, passed the bathroom where he could hear Steve washing himself up, and into their room. He stripped down to his Calvins, settled into bed and curled up around the pillows, his stomach still feeling queasy from the smell and sound of Steve heaving. His cheeks and ears were red with embarrassment. 

  
What kind of guy left their loving, sweet and not sober boyfriend to clean up his own puke?

  
It wasn't long before Steve was curling up in bed behind him, "You feeling better baby?" 

  
Billy felt himself blush deeper, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

  
"I'm okay. Not gonna throw up again." Steve's arms wrapped around him, his nose buried in Billy's neck. He was still clingy even though he was a bit more sober after a shower, "I brushed my teeth too."

  
Billy hummed and snuggled back into Steve, his big drunk cuddly teddy bear there to make him feel better after the unpleasant nausea episode. Steve's fingers were tracing shapes on Billy's chest, he was breathing soft puffs of air on the back of Billy's neck as they spooned. 

  
"Steve?"

  
"Hmmm?"

  
"I'm sorry I bolted." He wanted to curl up tighter at the admittance of that. He was such a wuss.

  
Steve purred and kissed the back of his neck, "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm okay. I took care of it."

  
"But you shouldn't have to do that all on your own." Billy's eyes stung, "You don't make me do that."

  
"You don't handle vomit well." he felt Steve shrug, "I don't mind it. I'm not upset."

  
"Alright..." Billy bit his lip and closed his eyes. Steve was okay with it. He was alright. He leaned into Steve and tried to relax. But the stupid guilt that only Steve could truly invoke in him, was rolling in his stomach, replacing the feeling of sickness. 

  
"I can hear you thinking, Tiger." Steve hummed, "Wanna see your face..."

  
Billy rolled to face him. He didn't smell gross anymore, instead smelt like his Steve; all fancy body wash and sweet shampoo. His brown eyes were still a bit hazy, the alcohol still in his system and his lips in a faint smile. Steve reached up and traced over Billy's nose and lips, "What's on your mind, baby?"

  
Billy turned and kissed Steve's wrist, looking sidewards at him as he kept his lips where they were pressed, "You deserve a good boyfriend."

  
"I have one."

  
"A good boyfriend would have taken care of you."

  
"You do."

  
Billy sighed "A good boyfriend wouldn't make you clean the puke up off yourself."

  
Steve snorted, "A good boyfriend doesn't make his lover do something that is going to make him intentionally suffer." Steve smiled at him, "A good boyfriend makes his boyfriend get him a glass of water and then get in bed and wait for him, lets his boyfriend get all cozy in the covers and then comes and makes good on his promise of sucking him till he's dry."

  
Billy snorted, "Suave, Harrington, really fucking suave."

  
Steve hummed, "Don't let those negative emotions hold, Bills. It's okay. I'm not upset. I get it." Steve grimaced, "I can't do blood, remember?"

  
Billy did remember. Remembered how he showed up one night with a cut under his eye that was still bleeding, remembered how Steve had taken one look at him and promptly fainted. Billy didn't let him deal with blood anymore after that. Didn't feel bad about having to clean himself up during then, actually preferred that Steve didn't see it. Preferred that his pretty boy didn't see him so roughed up. 

  
"So," Steve leaned in and kissed Billy on the nose, "Lets make a deal. You take care of the blood. I'll take care of the puke."

  
Billy snorted, "Sounds like a plan." 

  
Steve kissed him in agreement. 


End file.
